


The End

by Soprano



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 02:43:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soprano/pseuds/Soprano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Don’t do what you think you’re supposed to, John. Do what you want."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically how I would end the show if it were up to me.

“No.”  
John was down on one knee in front of Mary, the old floors of 221B slightly creaking under his feet. He waited patiently with the ring in his hand shining out of its little box. But it didn’t take him long to see the answer in her eyes, loud and clear before she even said it.  
He lowered his head and got up slowly.  
“I see.”  
“Don’t get me wrong, John, I love you. I would marry you in a heartbeat. But I can’t.”  
“Why not?”  
“Because that’s not what you want.”  
“How do you know what I want?” He felt slightly insulted by the assumption.  
“Everyone knows what you want. Except you, apparently.”  
She took his hand in hers.  
“You are amazing, wonderful, compassionate, smart--”  
“But…”  
“But there is also a part of you that prevents your own happiness. You expect certain things from life, from yourself. You think you should get married and have a family, because that’s what people do. It’s the dream, is it not?”  
“Is that so bad?”  
“No, it’s wonderful. If that’s what you want, but it isn’t. It isn’t what would make you happy.” She tried to catch his gaze, but he kept averting his eyes. “Listen to me, John. I will tell you something important. You don’t have to believe me, and I might not even be right. But this is what I believe.” She waited till he finally met her eyes, and went on. “Love is not necessary. Romance is not necessary. You can be happy with your work, you can be happy with your friends, you can be happy on your own. There is not a perfect formula that works for everyone. And this…getting married, having kids? That would not work for you, believe me. Maybe it will give you peace and stability, but you would not be happy. That isn’t what you need.” She picked up her coat and headed towards the door before turning around to add one last thing. “But if you are looking for love…you won’t find it outside of this house.” She gave him a kiss on a cheek. “Call me if you need a friend.” 

He didn’t see her for the next 3 months. Now that Sherlock was back, his reputation restored, his popularity spiking once more, the cases were flowing in, and they were always busy. It wasn’t the same, but that was a good thing. You can’t go through something like what had happened to them and not change. Nor should you. It’s not healthy. You need to bend or else you’ll break.  
John kept thinking of Mary’s words, and while just about everyone ever since day one has been making jokes about John and Sherlock being a couple, somehow John felt that wasn’t what she meant. There was something more. Something she understood that everyone else missed or refused to see. After 3 months, he finally called her and invited her out for a coffee.  
“Lovely to see you, John.”  
“Lovely to see you too, how have you been?”  
“Quite good, thank you for asking.”  
They sat down at an outside table in a small café. Without further ado, John cut right to the proverbial chase.  
“What did you mean? When you said I wouldn’t find love outside of my home?”  
Mary smiled. She expected this.  
“When we first met, you were miserable. But you got better. You became much happier, and I was glad. I thought this would be as good as it would ever get. But then Sherlock came back, and I saw what true happiness looks like on you. What you have with him… Your work, your friendship. That is what gives you happiness, and there is just no need to search for it elsewhere.”  
“But…” The broken record never stops. “I’m not gay.”  
Mary laughed.  
“Get your mind out of the gutter, John. Not every happy relationship has to be sexual. Or romantic for that matter. There are plenty of people that live out happy lives with friends, with siblings, with platonic partners. And the only thing wrong with that is everyone else in the world telling them that their lives are somehow flawed because they failed to partner up and procreate. Don’t do what you think you’re supposed to, John. Do what you want.”  
He didn’t reply and they drank their coffees in silence. It wasn’t awkward. He simply spent that time thinking, and Mary let him. Almost an hour later, she had to leave and John simply said “Thank you”, and Mary nodded in response.

He walked home still lost in thought. Would it be okay? To simply live out his life with Sherlock? Would Sherlock even want that? And what if it did get romantic? Or sexual? Perhaps, that would never happen, but John couldn’t help considering it nonetheless. And if it did, would it be so bad? Was clinging to his heterosexuality really the priority here? Does any of it matter more than what genuinely made him happy, thrilled, excited? What made life worthwhile. And if they remain friends forever, if that’s all there will ever be? What’s wrong with that? Perhaps Mary was right. Why not simply enjoy what makes your life more satisfying than anything else ever has instead of trying to achieve goals that you thought you were supposed to reach, when the thought of reaching them gives you a sense of disappointment that you cannot fight off? John knew better than most how short life can be, how disappointing. And how quickly you can lose what you never even knew you can barely live without. 

He reached the flat, unlocked the door and entered. But before he could start up the stairs, Sherlock blazed down towards the street.  
“John! You’re here, wonderful. I’ve been texting you, you weren’t answering.”  
“Oh, sorry, it was on silent.”  
“Lestrade called. Two people shot. All windows and doors are locked from the inside, no sign of forced entry and no weapon.” He finished the last sentence outside, hailing a taxi, before finally noticing that John was not beside him. He peeked back in through the door. “Coming?”  
John took a moment to think, then smiled knowingly to himself and followed Sherlock into the street.  
“Yes.”


End file.
